Photograph That I Gave You

We aren't inside long when he makes up a lame excuse to leave.
I let him. It's like puncturing a bruise.
I don't know what happened back there. I panicked. It would be best for me to just leave, but when I look into those big brown puppy dog eyes I can't say no. Just seven more days and they'll be safe.
Speaking of injuries I examine the marred skin of my arm. After about a full minute of staring I still don't see any dark liquid slithering under the pale surface. It's odd. Almost as if somethings been slowing it down lately. But that doesn't make sense. That's impossible.
The shrill sound of a phone ringing startles me out of my famillair cave of thoughts I felt myself receding into. It's Mikey's cell and he's still passed out so I pick it up as quickly as I can to stop the racket more than anything. "Hello?"
"Hey, Mikey?" The shitty reception makes the voice on the other end distorted and tinny.
"No it's his brother, Gerard. He's asleep." I clarify awkwardly. "Oh...yeah, ok thats why i got you mixed up you two sound so much alike." The caller obviously doesn't know Mikes very well considering we don't sound alike...at all.
"Yeah, happens a lot."
"Heh, I guess...so can you just tell him to call me back when he's up? No huge rush but..."
I debate coming clean and saying I don't know if I'll still be here when he wakes up but settle on an easy, "Sure. Yeah I will." I don't think I stranger wants to hear that I think every night there's a chance we can walk away. Bit too overdramatic for this conversation.
"OK thanks. Bye then."
"Bye." I hang up gratefully, my near dive into my old theatricality wouldn't've helped Mikey's chances with this new friend or whoever that was. I even reach for my stack of x-men comics my fingers touching the glossy covers before pulling back. What am I doing? Acting so normal, like everything's okay. Not so long ago I had a knife to my almost boyfriends neck and was-
Fuck it. I pick up the comic and flip through it nostalgically. The X-Men were the first superheros I ever felt I could relate too, because they weren't portrayed as perfect and incorruptible, they were just a bunch of outcast mutants trying to do some good in a world that hated them. Plus that scene where Wolverine gets crucified on a giant X, so fucking iconic. That really stuck with me. It tugs on my heart strings to put the book down. Maybe there's a comic book shop in town... I need to go buy something in town anyway, wouldn't do any harm if I saw one. Right?
* * * * *
I hand the money over to the woman behind the counter. This transaction may not be the most legal in the world but hey, what's a guy to do? The store owner looks me over once, taking in my not-exactly-pristine- black clothing and haggard eyes.
"So do you use kid?" She asks delicately, tactfully. To be take as a concerned inquiert or an offer.
Mostly caffeine, I think. Plus a shit ton of alcohol on the bad days and my fair share if weed in high school. Not to mention art school. And the painkillers that were never prescribed to me and the antidepressants that were. But never anything really hardcore. Never had the connections or the cash.
"Kinda." Is my response.
I guess it sounded way more childish than I intended because she just nods. "If you need anything strong. I'll be here. Long as you have the money." She says handing over the bag.
For some reason I find her over very cconsiderate, "Okay, thanks."
It's an interesting idea. Let's see how many chemicals this romance can take...
* * * * *
By the time I return with my purchase Mikey's up. I slip the bag under the couch cushions before he notices it. His sandy hair is totally chaotic and his glasses are balanced at the edge of his nose crookedly. His temples rest on the tips of his fingers gently, clearly nursing a headache. He looks like shit and I tell him this politely.
"Still better than you." He mutters with a halfhearted smile. "Mikey fucking Way, how dare you." I gasp putting a hand to my mouth mockingly "Guess you won't get to know who called you."
"What? Someone called me? Who?"
"Uh...yeah I don't actually know."
He gives me a deadpan look that clearly means; are you fucking serious. A look I've learned over many years.
"I'm not your secretary okay?" I say defensively, searching for some coffee.
"Yeah you're not, so maybe stay away from my phone?"
"Aah you have too many rules."
He shuffles up behind me and grabs the half empty coffee pot from yesterday...or was it two days ago? He pours a cup and chokes it down. Then holding the cold ceramic mug in both hands studies my face with half-shut hungover eyes. Finally he remarks "You're in a good mood today."
I immediately feel guilty. Today's been shit, worse than shit. I almost lost it. But yet simultaneously today I'm starting to feel like myself again. Like I'm still teetering on the cuspe of a disaster but now it's me on the edge, not so much the hollow shell I was.
"I dunno, guess the pills are working." I shrug.
"Mhmm, abd you don't even need to take them out of the bottle. Now that's effective." He smirks sarcastically.
"Oh, yeah well..." At that moment I grab the mug from him and splash it up onto his smug face.
"Fuck!" My little brother exclaims and punches me with more humor than malice. Still hurts like hell, playing bass must build some muscle.
"Ohmigod, keep it down. Bob will not hesitate to kill us."
"Heh ,yeah..." An odd look flashes across his features, one I'm not familiar to seeing on him. One I spy only in the mirror. There's a growing silence before I can grow a pair and ask him.
"Hey, Mikes. You're okay right? Like, you're not in a very dark place or anything right?" I ask tentively.
"I'm in a kitchen," he jokes in an empty voice.
I tilt my head stubbornly, "You know what I mean."
"Well..." He fold his arms. "I'm not totally sure, like, I don't know. Things haven't been always peachy right, and under these circumstances I think I'm holding up pretty well. All things considered."
I nod solemly "It's not easy being a Way."
"Heh, tell me about it. I don't even know if I'll let my kids visit Uncle Gerard."
"What?" I blink rapidly, caught off gaurd.
"Uh, your not always totally reliable, you think I'd have figured that out by now. I'm kidding though, I wouldn't deprive them of your ....speical presence."
I have to laugh to stop from crying. I wish I could tell him, I'm not going to make it that far. We'll never have that life, I'll never see if his kids will inherit his musical talent and poor eyesight . We'll never get to visit on holidays and let the kids go play Star Wars and colour pictures with oversized crayons with their cousins. I won't have any children to learn the trick of battking anxiety from their uncle Mikey and I won't be there to make sure his kids don't ever feel alone if they ever struggle so secretly with depression. I won't be there to see my little brother grow up and find his place in the world. All I'll leave him with will be painful memories and a difficult explanation to his family about why he doesn't have a brother anymore. The future has always been to uncertain for me to really contemplate. In another life would I have had a little boy who looks like me or a little girl who would still look like me. Or would it be possible for me to stay with Frank and adopt a little lost soul in need of a home and a billion dogs. Who's brother in law would I have been? Will Mikey every find anyone perfect enough for him to spend eternity with. I hope he does, because I know the onky thing he needs more than to be taken care of is to have someone to care about.
Things weren't perfect in our childhood but we made it work, helped each other get through the bad times and build ourselves a new family in a tour bus.
"A-anyway," I stumble back onto the couch, "If you need someone to talk to I'm here alright. I am your older brother after all. If you need anything just ask."
"Some Tylenol would be great. I think we're out," He winces.
"I meant more advice-wise like if...." His painful expression makes me cave. "Fine, there's a stash under my pillow." "Yessss," he says under his breath as he goes to retrieve them. "So where's your sweetheart?"
"What- who- so you really believe we-so like do- do we like come off like a couple? Is that the vibe we give?"
He throws me a glance over his shoulder, "Ugh, stop with the starry eyed school girl smile."
I set my mouth into a hard line to stop the subconscious grin, "Sorry, but like, you know how long I've been into him."
"Yes, yes I do," he pops a few small white pills. "More than I'd like to yes..." His poker face melts a bit when he sees my expression, "And yes, you look like a match made in heaven and everyone's totally jealous and yes I'm sure he feels the same way. Happy?"
"Yeah." I admit a big stupid happy grin on my face.
"Good. Now don't fuck this up. This band is one good thing we have going for all of us."
The smile slips and my heart pounds against my chest guiltily. "Heh heh, don't worry I'll be careful." At least from now on anyways...I hope...
"We thought we'd all rehearse later okay?"
"Yeah great."
"Alright see you then," he moves towards the door, "Have fun ....being miserable." He says with discreet compassion, "And hey, don't worry. You're a fighter," I caught sonething ckose to respect in his voice, "You'll bounce back, you always do."
I wish he was right.

Notes

Heh heh heh....heh heh heh.....